


Don't Leave Me Tongue Tied

by BarlowGirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Derek Hale, Comfort Sex, Established Relationship, I really don't know what to tag this besides, Look! Porn, M/M, Mild D/S undertones, PWP, Porn, Stiles POV, bottom!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarlowGirl/pseuds/BarlowGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Like usual, Derek’s entire body relaxed immediately. He liked this part, Stiles thought, liked how Derek practically went limp under him, body completely devoid of any tension for now. He’d sensed this coming, if he was being honest with himself. Something about storms made Derek antsy, his skin too tight. Running helped, but sometimes…</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Good,” Stiles said, straddling Derek’s thighs. “There we go, that’s good. Yeah. I know what you need.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Sometimes he needed more to settle him back into himself.</i>
</p><p>Or: Derek doesn't like storms. They make him restless. Stiles helps with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Leave Me Tongue Tied

**Author's Note:**

> I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING. *hides*
> 
> (Also the title is from Tongue Tied by GroupLove because I needed a title and I suck at them.)

The door creaked open. Stiles hadn’t been sleeping, exactly, more dozing, but the sound pulled him the rest of the way to consciousness. Lightning crashed in the sky, the flash lighting up the room briefly enough that the dark shape by the dresser became clear. The lightning reflected red off his eyes, Stiles noted with more fondness than he’d ever admit. Werewolf anatomy was so weird sometimes.

He listened to Derek strip, wet clothes slopping into the hamper. Derek would wash them tomorrow before they had a chance to start smelling strange, even if it wasn’t his turn to do laundry, always guilty about soaking the hamper. Stiles braced himself as his idiotic werewolf’s footsteps padded softly across the wooden floor, most likely only audible because of the rain still on Derek’s skin. And, yup, there was the wet skin and the cold rainwater dripping off his hair and onto Stiles and the general _gross_ coldness, right on time.

He sighed. “You know, I stayed inside when the storm started. I’m supposed to be dry right now.”

But he grabbed the towel he'd gotten up to get earlier off the empty side of the bed and started rubbing it over Derek’s hair anyways, squeezed enough of the water from it that it wasn’t dripping into his face. He took a moment to stroke it back with his fingers. It curled a little around them, longer now and soft since Derek had gotten lazy with the product the last couple years.

When it was only damp, Stiles began swiping the towel over Derek’s back, shoulders, wherever he could reach. “Good run?”

Derek pressed his face against Stiles’ shoulder and nodded, damp hair cool against his skin.

Satisfied that at least the sheets wouldn’t get completely soaked, Stiles tossed the towel onto the floor and rubbed his palms down Derek’s sides. “You alright? You’re being really quiet right now.”

He felt Derek pull back, felt him hesitate before leaning in and pressing a careful kiss to Stiles’ jaw.

Stiles exhaled, long and slow, and reached up to cup the back of Derek’s neck. Oh. “Okay, we just… I need to be clear. So just… just let me… is this a thing where you just want to sleep or a thing where you want–”

“Stiles,” Derek said roughly, his voice muffled against Stiles’ skin.

“I know,” he replied, running a gentle hand down Derek’s side. “I know, but you do sleep naked and… you know I like to check. I’m in control? S’what you want?”

Derek nodded.

“Okay,” Stiles said. He cupped Derek’s face in his hands, pressed a kiss to his forehead, then wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist and flipped them both.

Like usual, Derek’s entire body relaxed immediately. He liked this part, Stiles thought, liked how Derek practically went limp under him, body completely devoid of any tension for now. He’d sensed this coming, if he was being honest with himself. Something about storms made Derek antsy, his skin too tight. Running helped, but sometimes…

“Good,” Stiles said, straddling Derek’s thighs. “There we go, that’s good. Yeah. I know what you need.”

Sometimes he needed more to settle him back into himself.

He leaned down for a kiss, slow and lazy because they had time and he liked kissing. Derek kissed back for a long moment, before pulling away and deliberately turning his head. Baring his neck. Stiles grinned, feeling his heart pick up its pace. He liked that, too. Liked the idea that Derek wanted to give up control like this, wanted to be _taken_ , wanted Stiles to be the one to do it.

“I know what you need,” Stiles whispered again and leaned down. He pressed his mouth to Derek’s throat, to the hollow where the pulse beat fast and unsteady, scraped his teeth down the skin over the big tendon, and, finally, bit down hard.

He rode out the shudder that ran through Derek’s body, pressed him down hard into the mattress.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, rubbing his hand over the side of Derek’s neck. “I know. But I’m not entirely sure yet what I’m going to do with you. You want me to ride you until you lose your mind?”

Another shudder wracked Derek’s body, but he stayed silent. Stiles bent and flicked his tongue over one flat nipple. It beaded under his touch and he felt goosebumps breaking out under his mouth. He grinned into the darkness. “Or are you in the mood for me to fuck your brains out?” He shrugged. “Either way, I’m going to take you completely apart. So. You think about what you need while I keep myself busy.”

He mouthed his way down Derek’s torso, slowly, teasing a little because that was always fun. Lingered at his collarbone, biting down on the thin skin there in a way that would probably leave a mark if not for the quick healing. Laid a path of kisses down one side, but skipped over Derek’s abs entirely. Derek made a half-bitten off noise when Stiles left a bite on his hip, which, Stiles had decided a long time ago, was possibly one of the best sounds he’d ever heard, and he needed to hear Derek make it as often as possible. So he settled between Derek’s legs, gently nudging one leg up and over. For a moment, he just brushed his lips over the inside of Derek’s thigh, still surprised by how soft the skin was there.

“One of these days, I’m gonna leave a mark that stays,” Stiles said against Derek’s skin. “Right here where you’ll feel it all day. No, trust me, it’s a good thing. I like the ache. Like remembering.” He pressed his mouth into the soft skin again. “So one day I’m gonna leave one that stays for you, so you’ll feel it when your jeans press against it, until it heals, slow, and you know that you’re mine.”

“Am yours.” The words came out rough, barely a whisper.

Stiles went still. “Yeah, you are. Grab my wrist.”

Derek’s fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“Okay,” Stiles said, keeping his voice soft. He wasn’t angry. A little worried, but not angry. He didn’t want Derek thinking that he was. That wasn’t their thing. “You know the drill. Once for yes. Are you still okay?”

Squeeze.

Stiles nodded. “Good. Still good not talking?”

Squeeze.

“Just had to check.” Stiles smiled, more against Derek’s skin than not. “So, what, you just needed to say you were mine?”

Squeeze.

Oh.

“That’s right,” Stiles murmured, then leaned in and ran his tongue up the length of Derek’s cock. “All mine. Nobody else.”

He liked the way Derek jumped when he traced the big vein under the head of his cock with his tongue. Derek’s back arched, then he exhaled and his muscles stiffened, just a little, like he was deliberately holding himself still. Stiles liked that a lot. It only got better when he stopped teasing and started using his mouth on Derek in earnest. He knew he was good at this, as a rule, and especially with Derek, whose responses he’d spent hours upon hours memorizing. And he liked that. Liked the way Derek tasted, liked the stretch of his jaw, the ache, liked it when Derek used his hair to hold him still and fuck his mouth, liked it when Derek held himself absolutely still underneath Stiles, forced himself to be still.

More than anything, he liked making that control shatter.

Stiles used everything he knew Derek liked, taking Derek’s thick cock right to his throat, breathing through his nose to keep him there, swallowing around him. He alternated, when he needed more air than he could get from that, with teasing flicks of his tongue around the head, until he could feel Derek’s stomach contracting and jumping under his palm.

Then long fingers caught him around the wrist.

Stiles pulled back as fast as he could without injuring one of them, falling to his side on the mattress next to Derek. “Okay, I’m stopping, don’t worry. I’m stopping. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Derek squeezed Stiles’ wrist, hard.

“Do you need a full-stop?”

Derek let go for a moment.

“Okay.” Stiles frowned. “I think you need to tell me what happened. Did I do something?”

Derek made a sound, a huff of breath, and his voice came as barely a whisper. “Was gonna come.”

“Ohhh.” Stiles smiled slowly, groped around in the darkness, and wrapped Derek’s hand around his wrist again. “You don’t want to come?”

Derek took his hand away, then replaced it.

“No, you don’t want to come yet or at all?” Stiles snorted. “Wait, that wasn’t a yes or no question, sorry. My fault. Do you want to come at all?”

Squeeze.

Stiles nodded. “Okay. So just not yet?” Another squeeze. “Well, then. I think I can work with that. You want to let me know what you’re needing?”

He could practically hear Derek’s hesitation. And he waited, because he refused to pressure Derek. This was about Derek, anyways, not about him, and he could wait as long as he needed to. 

Derek shifted, turning a bit.

Stiles reached up to stroke his side, frowning. “Hey. Everything okay?”

Derek squeezed his wrist, then shoved something into his palm.

“Ohh,” Stiles murmured again as he caught on. “I can definitely work with that. So how are you wanting to do this? You want to fuck me?”

Derek let go of his wrist for a moment before catching it again.

“Just to check – you want me inside you?”

Derek squeezed his wrist so hard Stiles felt his bones creak.

He laughed softly, reaching up to rub his fingers through Derek’s still-damp hair. “You know I need to check. So.” He leaned slowly over Derek, pressing his hands onto Derek’s shoulders. “I think you should be being kissed right now.”

They both knew he wasn’t really strong enough to hold Derek down, but his hands fit well over Derek’s shoulders anyways, and when he splayed his fingers out, the illusion was enough. And Derek liked it just fine, he knew. Liked the pressure of being held down, liked being pushed into the mattress by Stiles’ hands and body weight, liked being anchored. It might be an illusion but weren't velcro handcuffs, too?

He stopped thinking about it when Derek offered up his mouth. It was a stupidly pretty mouth, too, surprisingly soft and full when relaxed and not pressed into a hard line of stress and anger. Stiles could spend hours just kissing him, exploring the soft shape of it, the way his bottom lip swelled up if Stiles bit down just right, the one chipped tooth Derek had from that time Erica got pissed at him and punched him in the face. Could spend hours cataloguing the exhales against his mouth, the barely-audible sounds that escaped Derek, the way he arched up when Stiles pulled away.

Stiles ran his fingers gently over the curve of Derek’s jaw, grinning at the shiver that ran through Derek when Stiles’ fingertips brushed his throat. Then he moved back between Derek’s legs, nudging Derek’s thighs apart to make a space for himself. Derek’s breath went ragged and loud when Stiles uncapped the lube. This was one of the few times he desperately wished he could hear heartbeats, Stiles admitted, as he pressed one gentle fingertip into Derek. He was careful, always, because it made Derek a little crazy and Stiles liked that. Liked how the slow, careful, gentle press of his fingers inside made Derek tense underneath him, then deliberately relax until the next time Stiles hit a particularly good spot.

One leg bent up, knee bumping into Stiles’ shoulder as Derek moved his foot restlessly against the sheet.

Stiles pressed a grin into the inside of his thigh. You're impatient today, aren't you? That’s okay, I’ve got you.”

He moved up over Derek slowly, making space for himself as he went, leaving kisses here and there on Derek’s skin the whole way. Derek made a noise when Stiles settled on top of him, an exhale more than a true noise, but it made Stiles _ache_. He’d been ignoring his own body, because this wasn’t really about him and he liked it that way, but he was hard enough that he hurt and he just… he needed this as much as Derek did.

He pressed a kiss to Derek’s throat, keeping his teeth away for now. “Now?”

Derek grabbed his wrist and squeezed, hard.

“’Kay,” Stiles said, smiling as he ran a slick hand over himself. “Sounds good to me.”

He pushed inside slowly, giving Derek time to breath through the stretch. He kept both hands on Derek’s shoulders, partly bracing himself, partly using his weight to anchor Derek to the mattress. And when he was deep inside, completely surrounded by tight, amazing heat from root to tip, Derek made a noise like he was broken and Stiles nearly came right then and there.

“Hey,” Stiles rasped, his throat thick with his pounding heart, rubbed his thumb over Derek’s soft bottom lip. “Hey, you’re okay, right?”

Derek slipped a hand around the back of Stiles’ neck and tugged until he could press his face into Stiles’ throat, then nodded.

“Yeah,” Stiles murmured, reaching a hand down between them. “Good. You’re so good. I’m gonna – I wanna make you come. Do you want me to make you come?”

Another nod and Stiles wrapped his hand around Derek’s cock, stroking slowly as he arched into Derek. Derek shuddered with each thrust, each touch, little tremors that wracked his body, bitten-back moans stifled against Stiles’ skin. Like Derek’s forgotten how to keep himself from making noise, like he couldn’t think enough to keep himself from doing it.

Making Derek forget how to think was one of Stiles’ favourite pastimes.

“Whenever you want,” Stiles said, brushing his lips against Derek’s temple. “It’s okay, you can.”

Gently nudging Derek back flat onto the mattress, Stiles kissed the sweet spot between his neck and shoulder, kissed his way from there to the base of Derek’s throat as he rolled his hips up, traced the curve of Derek’s jaw with his lips and tongue.

“Derek, c’mon,” he mumbled, his hand starting to shake as he stroked the hard cock pressed between their stomachs, slick with precome. “C’mon, you want to come now, don’t you? You’re so good. I want you to. I – come on.”

Stiles was too far gone to be any good whatsoever at the whole dirty talk thing, too far gone to do anything except mumble nonsense into Derek’s skin and then, because he couldn’t help it, bite down hard on Derek’s neck.

Derek _arched_ against him and spilled between them with a moan.

Best. Noise. Ever.

“Fuck, yeah,” Stiles gasped and let himself come, shaking over Derek. When the last of the aftershocks rode out, he groaned and carefully pulled away, grinning dopily into the darkness. “Yeah.”

He wasn’t exactly steady but he leaned over and grabbed a couple of the wet wipes they kept on the nightstand, warming them between his hands for a minute. The coldness kind of sucked but it was so much better than stumbling to the bathroom on wobbly legs, inevitably tripping over something and ending up covered in not-fun bruises. So he warmed them up with his hands before cleaning them both up with quick, efficient swipes and got to stay in the nice, warm bed. Then he tossed them in the general direction of the trashcan and reached for Derek again, who’d grumbled at the clean-up but otherwise hadn’t made a sound or really gotten past the loose, boneless stage. That was okay, though. Stiles liked that stage, liked how easy it was to manhandle Derek onto his side, pull the blankets up over them both to keep the chill off as the sweat cooled, to stretch out behind Derek’s back and pull him in close and tight.

Then he tucked his chin into the nook of Derek’s shoulder and ran a hand over his damp stomach. “You feel like talking yet?”

Derek shook his head.

“Okay. Can I get a kiss?” When he felt a nod, Stiles leaned over, tucking a hand under Derek’s jaw to bring their mouths together. He liked the kisses after, too, the softness and laziness with the undercurrent of exhaustion running through them. He only pulled away when his abused arms started to tremble from holding himself up for so long, settling back around Derek. “Okay. You don’t have to talk if you don’t wanna.”

Stiles dozed a little, his nose right against the back of Derek’s neck. His nose might be not as sensitive as a werewolf’s, but Derek smelled good anyways, rain water and shampoo and soap and something that’s just… _him_ , that Stiles can get lost in for ages.

After a while, Derek moved and Stiles came back to himself. He was used to that. On nights where Derek was restless, Stiles was almost never able to make himself sleep. It’s stupid – things have settled down over the years, getting closer to the way it was when Derek’s family was alive – but he can’t help remembering the early days. He _likes_ having his idiotic werewolf in bed with him at night, not wandering around in the forest.

“Sorry,” was the first thing Derek said, his voice husky. “I woke you up.”

Stiles laughed, rubbing his cheek against Derek’s shoulder. “Well, the hot, hot sex kind of made up for that. Relax, you’re fine. You’re good.” He pulled Derek in tighter, made sure the blankets were tucked up around him. “You’re so good. Relax.” He pressed a kiss right against the nape of Derek’s neck, smiled at the shiver it got him in response. “I know you know I know you get restless when it storms. It’s okay.”

“You know I know you know?” Derek repeated.

“I know, right?” Stiles said blithely.

Derek’s shoulder shook, silently.

“I love you,” Derek said, easily, which had taken a long time to happen. "You're an idiot. But I love you."

Stiles smiled against his shoulder. “I know.”


End file.
